All I Know
by big tears
Summary: Buffy's just been through a breakup. Guess who finds her afterwards?


Title: All I Know

Author: Mrs. Niles Crane

Pairing: X/B... mostly.

Disclaimer: It's Joss's.

Rating: PG for romanticky themes

Summary: Buffy's just been through a breakup. Who d'you think finds her?

A/N: Okay... This is my first fanfic for Buffy, so please feel free to let me know what I'm doing wrong. I'd like to be able to write another in the future without people going: "Oh, that's by Mrs. Niles Crane... she kinda sucks."

*

She was drowning her sorrows in high-caffeine, high-sugar soda that night. Sighing as she casually swished the red plastic cup back and forth, taking in the smells of greasy Instant Heart Attacks and cigarrette smoke. It was a night for depression.

There had been a guy. A really sweet, really smart, really sexy guy. Things had been going great. Then again, things always go great right before they screw up.

He dumped her with four words: "It's just too weird." She thought that after hearing that phrase so many times, the hurt would die down. She thought she'd be able to move on with more speed and less recovery time -- Slayer healing powers, right? Yet, there she was with a cup of Coca-Cola and two ducts of unshed tears.

They nearly all spilled out when Xander found her.

She looked up at the sound of a bell, her eyes able to catch the glass door opening even before the waitress. There he was, just standing there with the trademark grin on his face. It faded when he noticed her condition: blurry shadows around her eyes, where the mascara and eyeliner had lost their shape; swollen nose; furrowed eyebrows.

He bit his lip as he took the eleven steps to the bar, easing himself into the stool next to her without a word. The air changed as he came closer, filling her with a strange mixture of her sorrow, annoyance, and relief. She never liked being alone.

The diner jukebox was playing Art Garfunkel's _All I Know_.

"Hi," Buffy said, sniffing pathetically at the end of the greeting. It was something she couldn't really help anymore -- just like the inevitable breakups and the kleenex box tower she'd been building in the garage.

He didn't respond at first. He just sat, staring quietly at the bloodred counter top. She knew what he was doing: trying to think of something that would comfort her. The quips and puns he usually had at his every command seemed to be vanishing lately, and the opportunities to use the few he had left were few and far between. It was sick, she decided, to see Alexander Harris without humor in his eyes. It disturbed her much more than any of the corpses or monsters she had ever seen.

"How many weeks?"

"Three..." she replied.

"He's an idiot," he intoned, frowning darkly at something that wasn't there. "A big fat stinkin' idiot."

"You're sweet." Sniff. 

Another few moments of quiet, undisturbed by the solitary truckers a few seats away. They seemed to be distracted by their coffee, which she could understand. Coffee had inspired many of her deepest thoughts.

The jukebox was still going, almost haunting notes emitting themselves from the speakers and floating through her head. Xander was mouthing the lyrics.

"_...All my plans depend on you..._" he said soundlessly, his focus now centered on the cup between Buffy's hands. 

She didn't know what it was, his gaze or the song, or the strange combination of both -- but she became uncomfortable. Her way out of discomfort was usually speaking.

"So... why're you here? I'm sure it isn't for the atmosphere..." She tilted her head as she spoke, until her face was in his line of vision and her cool eyes connected with his warm ones.

He laughed, a noise that didn't sound happy at all. "As much as I love the smells of hot lard and coffee, you're right..."

"Welll?"

He grinned, a look that didn't fade like the first one had. His smile went up to his dark eyes, brightening them in a way and releasing all of her troubles for the moment. After all the horror and darkness, she had forgotten what Xander could do for her.

"Pie." he said, and when she raised her eyebrows he continued cheerfully: "Oh, y'know, Buffster. A guy has a craptastic day, he comes to a diner for a nice piece of pie -- it's the way America has worked since the good ol' days!"

"Which were...?"

"Since I was in fourth grade," he admitted, "and it usually works. You day must've been worse than mine, though -- you've brought out the Big Guns."

She smiled emptily at her Coke, sure of what he was saying but not sure what he meant. He was like that, she had realized a very long time ago. He could be talking about the quality of the donut he had eaten for dinner two days ago, and mean something completely different.

He sighed lightly, an extreme contrast to the song that was still playing for some reason.

"Was he nice about things, Buff?"

She took a breath. The question had shocked her; Xander had never taken the time to ask about a breakup before, and his interest was something completely unexpected. Unsure of what to say, she shrugged... but his questioning wasn't over.

"The 'weird' thing again, huh? That's major suckage... Was he smart?"

Shrug.

"Strong?"

Shrug.

"Incredibly sexy?"

"Not... _incredibly_," she said, turning her head slightly so that she could look at her interrogator. 

"Oh," he said, lips twitching into a smaller smile. "Good."

A waitress finally approached the two of them, apologizing that she hadn't payed more attention to customers.

"Do you want anything?" she asked Xander, after she had finished berating herself.

He looked at Buffy from the corner of his eye, confident that she either didn't notice or didn't care.

"Yeah," he said. "Can I get a piece of apple pie?"

Neither of them spoke the first few seconds after the waitress had gone. Buffy, because she was thinking. She considered the fact that she was alone... again. That there was no one to call up when she felt like a date, no one to go on midnight picnics with, no one to love. There were her friends, yes, but she wanted something else...

She just didn't know exactly what yet.

The song was still playing on the jukebox, and he decided to make a comment on it -- in hopes of breaking the tensity that seemed to be rising and falling. 

"This used to be my favorite song," he said. On her look, he added, "You know, after I'd finished my pie in the fourth grade, I'd come home and turn on the radio... this song always seemed to be on."

"I've heard it a lot, before tonight," she replied. "Dad's a Garfunkel fan... which is really weird, when you think about it."

The waitress brought Xander his pie, along with apologies and a complimentary dish of vanilla ice cream. A second later, she brought two spoons and two forks.

"Just in case you get tired of using the first one?" Buffy asked, picking up a spoon and examining it carefully. This night just seemed to be getting more abnormal by the minute...

He chuckled. "No... I think it's for you."

"Oh,"

"You have to fight me for the crust, though."

*

He walked her home after they had finished their pie and ice cream, whistling that song and occasionally muttering two or three words from the lyrics. The emptiness of Sunnydale's nightlife echoed the sounds continually.

She didn't say much of anything, contenting herself with simply listening for what seemed like the first time in months. Other than Xander, however, everything seemed to be relatively quiet. There wasn't even the sound of the breeze blowing through random plant life... So she focused on the sounds and words coming from his lips.

"..._Both bruise too easily... too easily to let it show, I love you and that's all I know..._"

Although she didn't know it, he was thinking more than singing. There was something about the night, something about the coincidence of their meeting that brought about suspicion and overwhelming joy. There was something so fulfilling about being there for her, to distract her from the pain some macho loser had caused. And yet, he couldn't help but wonder if The Powers That Be were playing some twisted joke; after all, what could be worse than having the best night of your life abruptly cancelled?

That's what was going to happen. Her house kept getting closer -- there was no way he could stop it, unless the Hellmouth exploded. That would be a decent excuse for not being home on time, wouldn't it?

_Explode..._ he thought to himself, clenching his hands into tight fists. _Come on, explode!_

It didn't.

It _wouldn't_, not for Xander Harris, because his love life was destined to bite the big one.

He let out a very deep sigh, his anxieties floating into the air and hovering over his head. It was a sign, he decided as they continued to walk. A sign that his whole life, apart from moments like this, was hell.

She noticed the sigh slip from his mouth, coiling around in the dark, and wondered what could be bothering _him_. It couldn't be anything very big, because he would have told her. They had that sort of relationship: no secrets... or so she thought. But, convinced that it needed discussing -- mostly by the fact that she needed another distraction to keep her mind from her own troubles -- she asked.

"What's wrong, Xan?"

"Oh... ah, nothin'!" he said, much too quickly for her satisfaction. "Just... just thinking about -- about stuff."

"Right," she replied, rolling her eyes at him. She stopped in her tracks, standing a few feet behind him then, and continued. "Come on, tell me! Maybe I can help...?"

"You're almost home, Buffy -- "

"I'll tackle your ass, Xander Harris."

He stopped breathing at that, the mental image enough to halt his brain activity altogether... which it did for a minute. He didn't realize that she was waiting for a reply until she had managed to catch up with him, tapping him on the shoulder and waving her other hand in front of his face.

"Xand-man?"

She was too close. She wasn't allowed to be that close -- at least, not in these kinds of circumstances. He wasn't about to take advantage of her, but the closeness was certainly hard for that mindset... He mentally willed her to back up, to shut up about what was bothering him, and go home.

It didn't work.

She took two steps closer -- as if she wasn't torturing him enough! -- and pressed her forehead against his.

"Xander? Are you okay?"

"No," he breathed.

"Well, what's wrong?" Her eyes. Her eyes that were much too close...

It happened before he could stop himself, although his rationalization was that _she_ had started it... His lips found hers within a second and the kiss ended three later. She had turned a very dark shade of something indistinguishable in the moonlight, he took several steps back in an attempt to shake away the feeling she gave him. He wanted to die. He wanted her to kill him -- maybe she really would tackle his ass, and then he could at least die happily --

She wasn't angry with him. She didn't know how she felt, exactly... but it wasn't angry.

"Oh." she said, for lack of anything better.

" 'Oh', as in... 'I'm gonna kill you!' Oh?" he asked, taking an extra step away from her.

"No." she said, "Just 'Oh.' "

"...Oh..."


End file.
